Eat Your Heart Out
by Madame Kiksters
Summary: Lance couldn't help that he was a zombie. Now as for the person he let die in an alleyway for the sake of his next meal? He could have helped that... but he really didn't want to be hungry anymore either. Too bad he was going to regret that decision for the rest of his life.
1. Meet Lance He's a Zombie

**Chapter 1: Meet Lance. He's a Zombie**

Lance was on his way home from his shit-job of Altea Pizza delivery boy. The owners had kept him late that evening making sure he'd cleaned up and gave them the agreed upon thirty percent of his tips from that night.

He looked down at his beat-up watch and noted that it was closer to two in the morning than one. He was slightly peeved at the owners for keeping him so late without feeding him.

Fuck. Was he hungry.

His stomach rumbled its agreement and he gave it a few sympathetic pats. While he looked at his stomach mournfully, there was a cry of distress from the alley in front of him. It must have been his lucky day.

Lance lingered outside and leaned against the wall as he heard the scuffle intensify. There was a choked off wail before a shadowed figure rushed from the shadows. He spared Lance a look, before he continued fleeing.

Lance licked his lips and his stomach grumbled violently as he stood up straight and sauntered into the alley. His mouth watered at the sight of blood pooling beneath the victim. He stepped closer before the person's face snapped up to find the newcomer. When they saw Lance, they let out a sigh of relief.

"Oh, thank God! You have to help me! Please call 911."

Lance made a sound of annoyance at the fact that the person wasn't dead.

"What are you doing? Do you not have a phone? I'd call myself but they threw it in the dumpster. Please, I've been stabbed. If you don't hurry I'll-"

Lance looked down at his watch again. Now the time read that it was a little past two in the morning. Lance gave a soft groan as he waited for the person to die.

"What the fuck is wrong with you? Help me! What are you waiting for?"

"Well." Lance stretched the word. "I'm waiting for you to die so I can eat. And I'm really hungry. So could you please hurry it up?"

"Eat? What are you? A fucking vampire or something?" Their breath was stuttering and the more panicked they got, the more blood spilled from their wounds.

Lance gave a humorless laugh. "No. Not a vampire." Lance took a step back and leaned against the alley wall as he waited for the victim to expire. "Guess again."

"F-f-fuck you!" They were getting weaker. Any minute now.

"Yeah, yeah. You really want me to tell you?" Lance asked coyly.

The person sank back to the ground, too tired to keep looking at Lance. Their head pillowed by their arm, they gave a quiet. "Please?"

They were probably still asking for help, but Lance wasn't about to let this meal escape so he treated it like they'd answered his question.

"Well, since you asked so nicely." He paused and the person shifted to look at him. Their eyes unfocused as they tried to find him. Probably hoping that Lance would help them after all. "I'm a zombie."

"You son of a-" and with a bloody cough, they passed out from blood loss. They weren't quite dead yet, so Lance gave them a few more moments. When he didn't see their chest rising and falling, Lance skulked over to the body and checked its pulse points for any activity. When the telltale fluttering was no longer present, Lance swallowed back the pool of saliva that had been collecting in his mouth.

"Finally." He took the person's arm that he'd been checking for a pulse and ripped it from the body. Lance sat back on his haunches as he bit into the arm. It was sinewy and had hardly any fat. Definitely not the best arm he'd ever eaten, but he had been desperate for a meal.

He heard shuffling from further down the alley and glanced up to find his handler, Hunk. The large man was staring at him accusingly, so Lance raised a questioning eyebrow.

"You know, not helping someone is almost the same as killing them." Hunk admonished.

"I save them sometimes, Hunk. I just haven't eaten in so long." Lance explained through a mouthful of meat. When he swallowed, he continued. "Besides, they were probably going to die anyways. Their attacker hit an artery."

Hunk stepped closer and found a skinny young man lying in a puddle of his own blood. His brown hair a matted mess and his skin was almost white from the blood loss, "Poor guy." He mourned.

Lance shrugged as he sucked the meat off of the two bones he had in his hands. He left the flesh on the hand, too many little bones that he could choke on if he tried to eat it.

Hunk watched him in silence, trying to contain his disgust. Lance appreciated the effort.

He was cutting into the torso with his claws when Hunk cleared his throat. "Pidge gave me a message today."

Lance stilled, "What'd she want?"

Hunk paused, trying to gauge Lance's mood before he told him the news. "She said… that the coven was going to be relocating next week."

Lance stood sharply as he turned to face Hunk. "What?"

Hunk took a step back, wary of the zombie's anger. "Pidge said that the coven was relocating out of the city. Something about gaining too much popularity for their cover establishment."

Lance stopped his approach of the other man with a sigh. Hurting Hunk wasn't worth it. Not for this momentary anger he felt. With a huff, he sank back down until he was crouched over the body and began to viciously tear into its abdomen. "Set up an appointment with her before they move. I want to have a say in this."

There was a long pause from behind him before Hunk responded. "Okay, Lance."

The bigger man's footsteps retreated and Lance let out a sigh as he tried to enjoy the feeling of not being ravenously hungry for the first time in weeks. When he was finished, he threw the bones into a nearby dumpster. He left the person's soiled and tattered remains of his clothes where he'd ripped them from his body.

"Glad that's over." Lance remarked as he turned to leave the alley. He checked his clothes to make sure there wasn't anything incriminating on them before he slunk out of the alley.

He made his way back to his shitty apartment and collapsed onto his lumpy bed. He remembered to reach for the small pill bottle on his nightstand and pop one of the pills he'd gotten from the witches responsible for the mess he was in.

He had another dreamless "sleep" that would end when the sun rose in a few hours.


	2. Meet Keith and Shiro They Run a Private

**Summary:**

 **Shiro is a detective. Keith is his assistant.**

 **Notes:**

 **(See the end of the chapter for more notes.)**

* * *

 **Chapter 2: Meet Keith and Shiro. They Run a Private Investigator Agency**

"Did you finish getting their testimony, Keith?" a young man asked from his desk. There was a small plaque that read, Private Detective Takashi Shirogane. On the wall behind him were various clippings of cases he'd solved and thank you letters from people he'd helped. His black hair had a tuft of white from the front, and a scar stretched across his nose from his first major case.

"Yes, Mr. Shirogane. It's all typed up and added to the report, sir." Answered a younger man as he sorted through the file cabinet in their office. His hair was longer in the back than the front, but he thought he was doing fine with a pair of scissors, hacking away at his bangs every so often to keep them out of his eyes.

"Was it the one about the-" Shiro began.

"Hit and run on seventh street? One and the same. We got a partial license plate number, and a make, model, and color of the vehicle that sped away from the witness we interviewed. They should be able to find the culprit within the week." Keith finished.

"Right. Right." Shiro stood and stretched before he made his way over to pour a fresh cup of coffee. "Any new leads on those missing persons cases?"

"None so far, sir. The police are still scratching their heads looking for a connection." Keith fingered through the alphabetized folders until he found the right one and pulled it out. He opened it up to reveal several pictures and documents regarding all of their unsolved missing persons cases. "People of all ages, races, backgrounds, and of either gender have all been turning up missing. There's never any trace of them afterwards. At least until someone stumbles upon a pile of clean bones barely hidden nearby." Keith flipped to the back and found several documents that Keith sometimes struggled to understand, but Shiro knew what they meant so it was fine.

Shiro turned and leaned against the table that held the coffee station. He sipped at his steaming cup, as he listened to Keith.

Keith continued, "There are lab reports that indicate a match to each of the missing persons. The only link we have right now is that the hands and feet are left intact… well, in the sense that it isn't just bone." The younger man grimaced as he carefully closed the file.

"The killer could be dumping the bodies and pouring lye over them." Shiro paused before he shook his head. "No, that couldn't be it. The bodies are never somewhere airtight, and the bones retain the same strength. It's almost like they've been picked clean."

"What are you thinking, Shiro?" Keith asked, watching the older man mentally work through the facts before he reached a conclusion.

Shiro looked up and replied gravely. "I think we might be dealing with some kind of cannibalistic serial killer."

Keith was especially careful as he walked home these days. He would have ridden his motorcycle to Shiro's office if his apartment wasn't a block away. He was glad that he lived in the city. Sure, there was a lot of crime, but for the most part people ignored him. It was perfect for Keith. Surrounded by people, and yet completely alone… at least when he wasn't working with Shiro.

He reached his apartment at seven in the evening and lamented that there was another day gone without catching their most recent culprit. He promised to himself that he would quit keeping such odd hours after this supposed "cannibal serial killer" case was solved.

But he had no idea where they should start. There were never any witnesses other than the unfortunate souls who found the victims' remains. The people that went missing and were never found typically occurred where there wasn't any camera activity.

He sighed as he unlocked his door. He was about to enter when the door to the room next to his opened up. He felt heat rush to his face, knowing who would be opening that door. His pulse quickened at the thought of his crush seeing him looking as haggard as he felt.

Steeling himself, Keith turned and caught his cute neighbor's eye, "H-hey, Lance. You're leaving early today."

Lance watched the other man shift awkwardly as he held the door open to his apartment. He waved with a smile in greeting. "Yeah. I got a call from a friend asking me to meet up before work. I'm probably going to be out late, so if you hear any activity assume someone's breaking into my place." Lance joked. He watched the color drain from Keith's face at the prospect. "Relax. I was kidding."

"Oh." The color returned full force. "Well, try not to stay out too late. Shiro is starting to suspect that those missing persons became some serial killer's dinner."

Lance felt his heart sink, "What?"

"I hate to say it, but that seems to be the most likely scenario." Keith confirmed. "The thought occurred to Shiro earlier today. He's gonna try and get access to some of the more recent sites of where the bodies have been discovered to see if there's anything the police might have missed. He thinks that because he knows a bit more about the motive that he can search for clues more precisely."

"R-right. I'm glad you two are out there cracking these cases." Inside, Lance felt his blood rushing as his body prepared to flee.

Keith, who was probably too tired to notice Lance's discomfort, gave a proud smile. "Thanks, Lance. Just remember, if you ever need any help. Shiro and my door's always open."

Lance nodded stiffly before he bid Keith farewell. He walked downstairs to the first floor with one thought in his mind.

He needed to hide that body where no one would ever find it.


	3. Uh-oh

**Summary:**

 **Lance returns to the dumpster where he hid the bones. Trouble ensues.**

 **Notes:**

 **(See the end of the chapter for notes.)**

* * *

 **Chapter 3: Uh-oh.**

Lance's meeting with the coven had been postponed until further notice. Hunk wasn't too happy with him for cancelling, but agreed that Lance should hide the body better.

Lance backtracked to the alley that he'd fed in last night and found the right dumpster. He lamented that the garbage had been dumped right before he'd dumped the bones inside of it. He could have buried the bones under the many garbage bags. There were a few bits of garbage inside as Lance climbed into the trash container.

He felt a little gross for being in there with garbage, mostly because he was sure that people would notice his stink when he was finished hiding the body.

He managed to untie one of the garbage bags before he transferred some of the bones inside. They didn't all fit, so he was forced to tie it up and find another one to store the rest.

When he was done, he crawled out of the dumpster and landed with a graceful crouch. He stood and dusted himself off before he turned. At the end of the alleyway, was the attacker from last night.

Lance waved in greeting as the thief approached him. "Hello, can I help you?"

"Yeah, you can give me all your fucking money."

"Now, that's not very nice. I like my money, and I hardly have any as it is. Tell you what. You get the fuck outta here and pretend you never saw me, and I'll forget that I saw you runnin' away from the dead guy I found last night."

The thief paused, his body tense. "How about, I kill you and take your wallet and no one ever has to know I was here last night, either?"

Lance tapped his chin in deliberation with a hum. "Sounds tempting. But I think I'll pass."

"I wasn't asking." The killer swiped at Lance with the switchblade he'd been threatening him with. Lance tried to dodge, but the knife caught him across his chest. He looked down at the wound and his torn shirt.

"Aww. Now I have to get a new shirt. That shit costs money, you fucker." Lance griped, watching the blood rapidly coagulate and begin the healing process.

The killer tensed further at the lack of pain the other displayed. He stabbed again, but met empty air. Lance had already spun out of the way and took the opportunity to kick the man's feet out from under him while he was unbalanced.

"You know. It's a shame I just ate." Lance mourned. The confused thief tried to stand but Lance stomped his back, sending him back to the ground where Lance used the same foot to crush the hand clutching the knife. The thief let out a pained yelp.

"Oh, grow up, will you? The guy from last night cried less than you, and he was dying." Lance kicked the knife further down the alley as he stepped away from the other. He heard footsteps approaching and figured it was Hunk, come to finally bail him out.

"Freeze!" That was definitely not Hunk's voice. He turned and found a police officer aiming a gun at him.

"Easy, officer. This guy was trying to attack me, and I defended myself."

"Down on your knees!"

Lance complied slowly, sliding his hands behind his head for good measure. "Alright, alright. I'm surrendering."

When the officer was satisfied that Lance was going to remain in his current position, he marched forward and slapped a pair of cuffs onto the zombie's wrists. They cut into him a little, but it was relatively painless. The cop had a much harder time with the thief, but he managed to subdue him all the same.

Lance found himself shoved into a police car as he was read his rights. Lance nodded along in agreement with a sigh. The car ride was over relatively fast, but Lance chalked it up to a weird lack of traffic on the road at eight in the evening.

Lance was fingerprinted and had his photo taken before he was shoved into a holding cell. He called Keith's number, figuring he could work something out faster than Hunk or the witches could, and then his office number when he didn't pick up the first one.

"Shirogane's Private Detective Agency, how can we help you?" Came a man's voice over the phone.

"Umm… is Keith there?" Lance asked.

"No, I'm afraid he's gone home for the day. Would you like me to give him a message?"

Figuring it couldn't hurt, Lance answered. "Yeah, I'm down at the station in a holding cell for defending myself." He felt the need to clarify. "Apparently excessive force is a thing, or something. Anyway. Keith offered to help me out if I was in any trouble so… I called him."

There was a long pause. "May I ask who's speaking?"

"Uh, this is Lance."

There was a sharp intake of breath. "I'll be there in a few minutes. Which station are you at?"

Lance gave him the information needed before he was escorted back to his holding cell.

When his savior arrived, it was not Keith. It was a young man with a scar across his nose, and a severe look in his eyes.

He stopped in front of Lance's cell accompanied by one of the guards.

"This him?" The guard nodded at Shiro's question with a look of awe as he unlocked the cell door.

"Uh, hello." Lance greeted. A little nervous at how the guard was treating this man like he was some sort of hero.

"Lance?" When the other nodded the man stretched out a hand. "My name is Takashi Shirogane. I run the Private Detective Agency Keith works at. He's my assistant. I'm pleased to finally meet you."

Lance was really confused. "What?"

"The officer that detained you discovered the assailant's knife a few feet from where he found you two. You could have probably killed him and gotten away with it after an investigation, yet you chose to incapacitate him." Shiro tilted his head as he gave Lance a considering look. "That was very noble of you."

"No… it was nothing." Lance mumbled as he shifted in discomfort.

"Nonsense." Shiro admonished him lightly. "Your attacker and the officer from last night corroborated your story, so… you're free to go."

Lance looked at him in disbelief. He was allowed to leave without any further trouble? Just like that?

Shiro interpreted Lance's skepticism as if he'd asked what Shiro was doing there, so he answered, "I only got to be the bearer of good news because I was in the right place at the right time… and they know me around this station pretty well." He laughed as he stepped out of the way and allowed Lance to exit the cell.

"I've heard a lot of good things about you, you know? Mostly from Keith." Shiro gave a quick smile. "But the rest of them come from people you've helped escape from their attackers, you're exactly like they've described."

"Oh." Lance rubbed at his neck. "It was nothing, really. Just… trying to help." He was starting to regret giving his name to those people he'd saved.

"I have been trying to get ahold of you for quite some time, but Keith never wanted to involve you in our line of work. He said something about it being too graphic for the average everyday citizen."

Lance scoffed internally. But something must have shown on his face, if Shiro's next words were any indication.

"But I think he's wrong. I have a feeling that you've witnessed horrors that normal citizens could never imagine." Lance stiffened at his words. Debating on whether it would be a good idea to leave with this man. "I'd like your assistance with the current case I'm working on."

There was a long, uncomfortable pause between the three men.

"Okay?" Lance prompted.

"I can't go into details right now." He pulled out a card from his pocket and offered it to Lance. "If you're interested, you can call this number or stop by our office."

"So… I'm free to go?" Lance asked incredulously as he glanced at the card.

"Yup." Shiro confirmed, stepping out of Lance's way.

The zombie nodded his thanks and shuffled out of the precinct with Shiro following hot on his heels. He waved farewell to the other before he turned to leave.

"You know." Lance paused at Shiro's voice. "I do wonder. What exactly were you doing in that alleyway?"

Lance's magically beating heart thumped against his ribcage. "Just dumpster diving." He turned around with what he hoped was a convincing smile. "But don't tell Keith, okay? I'd hate to spoil the illusion." He requested conspiratorially.

Shiro's eyes narrowed and Lance felt himself being picked apart. The tension continued to grow before Shiro smiled politely. "Yes. I suppose that wouldn't be very nice to Keith, would it?" Shiro's smile remained frozen on his face.

Lance chuckled weakly. "Glad we're agreed…" Lance shuffled nervously. "Well I'm gonna go now. If that's alright with you?"

"By all means." Was the vague reply. Lance nodded before he turned to make a hasty retreat, behind him he could hear Shiro's, "And try not to go dumpster diving in dangerous alleyways again."

* * *

 **Notes:**

 **Shiro has great instincts... just throwing that out into the void.**


	4. Oh No

**Summary:**

 **We learn who was murdered in that alley. Introducing Allura and Coran the witches as well as, Pidge, Allura's familiar.**

 **Notes:**

 **Hope you guys like this chapter!**  
 **(Also I am sorry about what happens.)**

 **(See the end of the chapter for more notes.)**

* * *

 **Chapter 4: Oh No.**

Shiro tracked down the alleyway that the officer reported he'd picked Lance up at. Something didn't sit right in his gut. And Shiro had learned long ago to always trust his instincts. He'd only ignored them once, and the large scar across his nose was a permanent reminder that stared back at him every time he looked in the mirror.

He searched through the various dumpsters after sending a quick text to Keith about his location and detailing that he'd freed Lance from police custody.

It was horrendously smelly work, but Shiro had to make sure. He went through both of the dumpsters and picked through the various piles of boxes and discarded debris lining the alley. When he'd finished, Shiro sighed with relief.

He was making his way back when something flashed under one of the dumpsters. Ever the dutiful investigator, Shiro kneeled down and peered underneath the garbage bin. He found a pair of familiar-looking glasses.

There was no way.

With a shaky hand, he reached for the spectacles and gently pulled them out. He inspected them further and while the lenses were cracked, there was no mistaking the thickness of them. The bent frames from too many times whipping them off of his head to glare at Shiro for a joke he'd made at the other's expense.

There was only one person these glasses could belong to.

"Matt?"

Hurriedly, Shiro pulled out his phone and dialed his friend's number. Just to make sure. It rang until it went to voicemail.

The private investigator redialed again and left a voicemail instructing Matt to fucking answer his goddamn phone or he'd be sorry.

He ended the call and let his arm relax back to his side as he clutched at his phone. And then he heard it.

Vrrm Vrrm.

His head snapped up at the muffled sound. But it was undoubtedly coming from the dumpster in front of him. He stood on shaky legs, and opened the lid again. He pressed the redial button and listened as he stared into the pile of trash.

Vrrrm. Vrrrm. Vrrrn. Vrrrn.

His phone clattered to the ground as he climbed into the dumpster again. He shoved apart trash bags until he found the one that was vibrating at the bottom of the pile. He untied the bag and a skull along with a random assortment of bones tumbled out of the bag and into his lap.

His hands clenched around the bag he was holding as he stared into the empty eye sockets.

"No." His voice choked with unshed tears. "Matt." And then those tears spilled from his eyes.

Lance was pacing in front of Hunk in the dining portion of Altea Pizza.

"What's taking them so long? I finally agreed to this stupid meeting." Lance griped.

"Uh, let's not forget that you cancelled on them first, before springing up that you wanted to meet with them."

"Shut up, Hunk. I don't want to hear you speaking sense right now. Just… let me be angry."

Hunk mimed zipping his lips before he settled back into his booth to look at his phone.

Lance continued muttering for a few more minutes before he sat across from Hunk and sulked.

A moment passed and the owners of the establishment entered through the back door.

A tall, black woman, with white hair and violet-blue eyes came marching out first. She was followed by an equally tall, white man with orange hair and a ridiculous mustache of the same color.

"I'm glad you decided you would be able to join us today after all, Lance." The woman greeted bitingly.

"Trust me, Allura. I would have been able to meet with you for the original meeting if some new information hadn't come to light." Lance argued as he reclined further into his seat. Muscles uncontrollably relaxing in Allura's presence.

"Oh? And what would that information be?" Allura asked as she slid into the booth next to Hunk.

Lance leaned across the table. "They've been finding the bodies."

The other three stilled before Coran asked hesitantly, like he couldn't believe he'd heard right, "What?"

The zombie nodded gravely. "The police have been keeping it under wraps apparently. But there's this little private investigator agency that's been looking into the case. I think one of them's on to me. I mean… he gave me his card and asked if I'd help him. But before I left… I think he suspects…" Lance left his confession open for Allura to fill in the blanks.

Allura sat back and her body slumped in defeat. "That isn't very good news at all."

A fluffy, tawny cat brushed against Lance's legs as it padded out from under the table. She sat down in front of the booth and meowed loudly at Allura.

"I suppose you have an idea on how to get us out of this mess, Pidge?" The dark-skinned woman asked as she waved a hand in the cat's direction. In the next moment, a young woman stood there dressed in an oversized jacket, baggy shorts, and tattered sneakers. Her messy hair was the same shade as her fur.

"Of course I do!" She answered with a smug grin, and Lance knew he wasn't going to like what he was about to hear. "The only way to throw off suspicion is to place yourself inside of their group."

"Are you crazy? They'd find out for sure if I was constantly around them." Lance argued.

"Not if you keep yourself in check." Pidge shrugged, like it was a simple solution.

Lance looked at her incredulously. "That's easier said than done, Pidge. You know as well as I do, that there is no way of knowing when I'm gonna snap."

Pidge leaned against the table. "Then you'll just need to keep yourself fed."

"Hello, that's kind of the issue here, Pidge. If I run around with Shiro and Keith all day, they're bound to notice me nibbling on some of the corpses they find."

"Lance's right, Pidge." Allura interjected.

Lance's, "Thank you!" Was promptly ignored.

"He needs to feed or else he'll go feral." The unspoken again hung heavy around them. Deciding to change topic, Allura continued. "Unless you have a way to solve this problem, we'd better start looking for alternatives."

"Could we just move away?" Hunk asked from beside her. Everyone stared at him with pity.

"No, Hunk. They'd just follow Lance. If anything, it would make him seem more guilty. I'm afraid that we might have to use a different approach." Was Allura's soft reply.

"What do you-"

Pidge's answer interrupted Hunk's question. "She means we'll have to kill them."

Lance stiffened. Whether he wanted to admit it, or not. He had a soft spot for the private detective's cute assistant. He didn't want to think about his lifeless corpse. Another slab of meat for him to consume…

Lance shuddered and the group looked at him with concern. "I'm fine." He assured them. But inside he most definitely was not fine.

"I have another idea." Pidge announced. The group turned to look at her as she continued. "Okay. So, Lance needs to eat right? Well does he need to eat fresh meat?"

"Well… no, but." Lance was interrupted by Pidge.

"So, if we sneak you some severed limbs you'll be fine, right?" Pidge asked.

"I guess… but-"

"Perfect. It's settled then. Glad I could help." Pidge cheered as she strutted over to the fridge for a container of yogurt.

Allura pinched the bridge of her nose as she muttered about unruly familiars. She sighed before looking at Lance meaningfully. "It's your choice, Lance. What do you want to do?"

He most certainly did not want to eat cold meat… but he especially didn't want Keith to die.

Decisions.

"Fine. I'll start at the agency tomorrow."

Keith felt his concern for Shiro grow with each passing hour. The scarred man had been sitting at his desk staring at an old pair of glasses for the better part of the day. He hadn't once looked through their many case files or asked Keith any pertinent questions.

The younger man felt like he shouldn't pry. But it was getting harder to ignore the other man's misery. Thankfully, a knock on the door interrupted the awkward atmosphere.

With a sigh of relief, Keith opened the door to greet their visitor.

"Hello, how can we…" He found Lance shuffling awkwardly outside of the door. "Lance?" What was he doing here?

"Hey, Keith. Shiro said to stop by if I was interested in partnering up with you… so… here I am!" Lance answered, spreading his arms wide to indicate his presence.

For the first time all day, Shiro spoke from inside. His voice sullen, "I said for you to call or stop by the office."

"Ah. Shiro! Didn't see you there." Lance ducked around Keith's form to find Shiro sitting at his desk. Noticing the other's pitiful appearance, Lance tried to lighten the mood. "Well, don't you look like a little ray of sunshine?"

Shiro glared at him before he ripped open a drawer at his desk and shoved what he'd been holding inside. He stood suddenly and caused his chair to be shoved away from him violently. "Yes. I suppose I do." His voice was clipped.

When Keith looked back at Lance, he found the most adorably confused expression on his face. His heart melted a little. "Don't mind him, Lance. He's been grumpy all day." He whispered conspiratorially.

Lance focused his eyes on Keith's face and gave him a bright smile. Keith felt his heart flutter. "It's alright. No harm done."

Keith could only nod in reply before the door was jerked out of his hands. Shiro stood behind him.

"Come in, Lance. Forgive my rudeness. I'm not in the best of moods today. I got a break in the missing persons cases that looks very promising, but it wasn't the lead I wanted." Keith could hear something off in Shiro's voice. Was he missing something? Or did Shiro seem to be angry at Lance.

"Well… I'm sorry to hear that?" Lance sounded like he wasn't sure how to respond to that piece of information.

Shiro hummed noncommittally before he opened the door wider and gestured for Lance to come in.

When Lance finally entered, he looked around the room before his eyes found the pictures and newspaper clippings about the various cases that Shiro had solved or at least had a hand in solving.

"You did all that?"

Shiro let his eyes flicker over to where Lance was looking before returning to the zombie immediately. "Yeah. I have incredible deductive skills I've been told."

Lance was starting to look nervous. "Oh?" He swallowed audibly. "So!" Lance clapped his hands startling Keith and Shiro, "What was the case you wanted my help on?"

"What?" Keith snapped angrily at the other. "What case? Shiro! I told you I didn't want to get Lance involved."

Lance waved away his protests. "I'm a lot stronger than you take me for, Keith. I can handle a little danger."

"Lance is right, Keith. I think he's really strong." Shiro leaned towards him, and something dark flashed over Lance's face but was gone when Keith blinked.

"I have to be strong if I am going to save people, Shiro."

There was a long pause where Shiro gave Lance a critical once over. "Right." He stretched the word like he didn't believe Lance's reason.

Not wanting this encounter to go any further south, Keith stepped in between the two. "Why don't we give Lance some of the details to get him started, Shiro?"

Shiro hummed in confusion before seemingly remembering why Lance was there in the first place. "Okay, Keith. You gather the info he needs while I show him around." At Shiro's words, Keith felt his stomach start to twist with worry.

He shot Lance a concerned look but the other greeted him with a warm smile and nodded reassuringly.

"Okay." He turned to the filing cabinet before giving Shiro a meaningful look that he hoped clearly conveyed his message. 'Play nice!'

Shiro didn't seem to notice.

"Then let's go." Shiro grabbed Lance's arm and escorted him out of the main room to the areas in the back.

Keith could hear them as they creaked on the old floor and heard Shiro's muffled voice, "This is the restroom where you can do your business and over there is…" Keith kept an ear out, but Shiro's voice suddenly quieted.

Lance was not impressed with Shiro's attitude towards him. Being suspicious was one thing, but this was downright ridiculous. He felt his teeth ache from how hard he was gritting his teeth as Shiro leaned into his personal space and began to threaten him.

"If you hurt him, I will not forgive you. And don't give me any shit." He added when Lance opened his mouth to defend himself. "I know there's something off about you, and when I find out what it is… well. We'll cross that bridge when we come to it."

Lance placed a firm hand on Shiro's chest and applied slight pressure. He accidentally used too much force in his anger and ended up practically shoving the other away. "Look. I have no intention of hurting either of you. But if you keep this up I might accidentally sock you in the face. And no, I am not threatening you." Lance answered. Knowing that threatening Shiro could land him in a heap of trouble.

Shiro seemed momentarily mollified, judging by the way he straightened his jacket and cleared his throat before continuing on the short tour without any further hostilities.

The kid had strength. Shiro thought to himself. He would have to tread carefully or he couldn't be sure of Keith and his safety. He didn't have anything on Lance other than foundationless suspicions and gut-feelings. But when he went after someone, he only acted after he was sure he had the right evidence.

He'd find out Lance's secret. He'd find out if he had anything to do with Matt's… with his death.

He just needed to play his part until Lance screwed up. Then he'd get him.

He always got them.

* * *

 **Notes:**

 **Uh-oh. Lance better keep on his toes.**


	5. Excuse Me?

**Notes:**

 **Been a year, time for the next set of updates!**

 **Hopefully I can get the rest up before October. If not, then early November.**

 **Thank you to everyone that's been waiting for this and I hope it was worth the wait!**

 **Also, I went through and edited the previous chapters a little better to fix a few glaring mistakes.**

* * *

 **Chapter 5: Excuse Me?**

Lance had spent all of ten minutes in the Private Detective's agency with Shiro and Keith, and he was ready to go home. He wasn't sure how he'd go about getting Shiro to trust him after their little confrontation in the backroom. Even though the older man had acted like nothing was wrong for the rest of his little tour.

Or, Lance thought he had. He'd been too busy internally agonizing over the fact he'd lost control of his strength and had probably hung a neon sign up for Shiro reading: I'm guilty.

His leg bounced anxiously under the temporary desk he was seated at while he vaguely listened to Keith talk to him, sneaking glances at Shiro every once in a while, to find the man's piercing gaze watching him every time.

He felt a warm hand on his arm and refocused on Keith, whose brow was creased with concern. "You're so cold."

Lance chuckled nervously and gently plucked Keith's hand off his arm. "Sorry. I didn't think it would be so cold in here. I'll be sure to bring my hoodie next time though."

Keith hesitated before grabbing his worn duster off the coat rack and offering it to Lance with a shy smile. "Sorry if it smells. I… haven't been able to wash it."

Lance pulled the coat closer to him and wrinkled his nose at the pungent smell. It wasn't a bad scent… it was just overwhelmingly Keith. He could smell the sweat of years' past and couldn't help the laugh that bubbled out of him.

"Have you ever washed this thing?"

Keith glared at him and moved to snatch his coat back, but Lance moved it out of his reach at the last second. "If you don't like it you don't have to wear it. I just figured I'd offer."

Lance pushed his chair out from the desk so he could stand and slide the duster on. It was a bit tight around his shoulders and was a bit higher off the ground than it was when Keith wore it, but it would serve its purpose as a barrier between him and anyone touching him. He didn't want anyone getting too many pieces of his puzzle or else they might be able to put two and two together.

"How's it look?"

When he looked down at Keith he found the other looking at the fabric stretched across his figure with equal parts worry over the duster's protesting seams and appreciation of Lance's broad shoulders. It was gone after a few seconds and Keith turned to head back to his own desk. "It looks fine. If the smell gets too much I'm sure you've noticed the coat rack's over there."

Lance gave an affirmative hum before he sat back in his seat. When he glanced over at Shiro he found the detective watching him expressionlessly. Lance rolled his eyes with an aggravated sigh.

"Are you ever going to actually do any work? Or are you just going to glare at me all day?" he challenged.

"I am working." Shiro answered vaguely.

Lance narrowed his eyes before looking down at his desk. Maybe he shouldn't have tried Pidge's plan. Nothing was worth this aggravation.

He glanced over and found Keith earnestly reading over case files and taking relevant notes.

Well… almost nothing.

Lance didn't realize he was smiling until he heard Shiro's voice and felt it fall from his face.

"We're going out." The detective announced, standing from his chair with what Lance was assuming was his usual level of violent force.

"Does that mean I get to go home?" Lance asked hopefully.

"No. You're coming with me. Keith is getting addresses from people he's going to try and interview later, so he's staying here. Right, Keith?"

Startled at the sound of his name, Keith looked up with a questioning hum.

Knowing his colleague, once focused on his work, tended to tune the world out, Shiro was prepared for his response.

"Lance and I are heading out. You okay holding down the place by yourself?"

Keith looked between the two of them worriedly before he gave a hesitant nod. "You guys aren't going to try and kill each other, right?"

Lance gave the obligatory, "Wouldn't dream of it," response expected of normal humans and couldn't help the little ball of intimidation growing in his chest when Shiro left without saying anything. Keith didn't seem to feel too much better about that fact than Lance did.

He followed after the detective with Keith's, "Don't let him bother you too much. He's just been off today," echoing behind him.

Lance followed quietly behind Shiro's tense stride. He had to walk a bit faster than normal to keep up, which was odd to him since he was almost always the tallest one in a group.

He noticed the odd looks people were sending them and cleared his throat to get the other man's attention. When Shiro made no indication of hearing him, Lance decided to continue regardless, "Mind telling me where we're going?"

"No."

There was a lengthy silence, one that Lance realized wasn't going to be filled by Shiro. "So… where are we going?"

"We're going to an interview."

"Interview?" Who were they going to talk to? As far as Lance could recall, no one other than him, the killer, and the victim were present during the crimes. "Who?"

Shiro huffed before shifting to the side in silent invitation for Lance to walk beside him. After a moment's hesitation, Lance took a few quick steps to match Shiro's pace.

"We're heading to interview a few of the more uncooperative people you've saved to see if your presence can help make them be a bit more talkative." Shiro looked behind Lance and across the street. When Lance turned to investigate, he didn't see anything out of the ordinary and when he turned back he found Shiro had already continued forward.

Lance followed mindlessly. Great. Now he'd have to play the part of well-meaning Samaritan.

The surrounding neighborhood they were in Lance was vaguely familiar with. He'd prowled around a few nights before he realized how well the neighbors communicated with each other about people snooping around. Tweakers were not the sort of people Lance wanted getting any ideas about him. Meth made people more paranoid than usual and no one in this neighborhood could be classified as a functional methhead.

"Are you sure it's a good idea to ask anyone here?" Lance asked quietly.

"Why're you asking that?"

Lance gave him a sour look. "You really going to make me say it?"

Shiro shrugged. "Unless you'd like to confess to knowing who the killer is, following any possible leads is the best we can do."

Lance groaned but didn't argue any further.

The first address they went to was on the third floor of a rundown apartment. Shiro was the one to knock on the door and he did so none too gently. Lance could hear the creaking of the floorboards inside but didn't mention anything to Shiro.

With another knock, Shiro barked, "I know you're in there, your car's parked on the curb. We just want to ask you a few questions."

There was some quiet whimpering from behind the door and Lance's ears perked at the sound of shuffling inside.

"Go away. I don't want to talk." Came a voice from behind the thick door.

Lance felt Shiro's hand at the small of his back, urging him forward in a silent command to speak.

He cleared his throat. "Hey, remember me?"

The long silence that ensued wasn't a good sign. The two men outside listened as several locks and chains were unlatched before the door creaked open to reveal a wide eye scanning them.

When it landed on Lance's face, the pupil dilated impossibly further before the door swung open fully.

"It's you!"

Lance gestured to his own body grandly. "In the flesh."

He found his hand grabbed firmly in the drug addict's hands and stifled the urge to pull away.

"I just want to thank you again. If you hadn't stopped that guy. I'd be-"

Shiro stepped forward, intruding on the moment. "Yes. It's him. Now. If you don't mind answering our questions about what you saw that night?"

The twitchy man looked at Lance and waited for him to nod encouragingly before he agreed.

Shiro finally gave a smile. "Okay, so let's start with what you remember."

"Well… I was in the alley I normally go to to… conduct business." Score some meth. "and my usual guy wasn't there. It was some weirdo goin' on about how this was his turf now and he was gonna be the one sellin' to me from now on. I told him that wasn't gonna happen and that I was only gonna buy from my boy. There's trust there, ya know?"

Lance and Shiro nodded in understanding. Lance waited for Shiro to pull out a notepad and start taking notes on what was being said, but he seemed more than content to just listen.

"So, he starts gettin' real angry. Says that he can't have anyone buyin' out of his territory that's gonna live in it. Next thing I know, he's flashin' this huge knife in my face and goin' on about how I need to change my mind. Before I could even think past the knife to say anything, the guy sticks me right in the gut." He looked at Lance. "If this guy hadn't showed up and scared the other one off and called the hospital I'd probably be dead."

Shiro gave a contemplative hum. "Do you remember anything about what your attacker's face looks like?"

"No, he had a hood pulled over his face."

The private detective turned to Lance for confirmation and received a nod before continuing with the next question. "You said that when Lance showed up he scared the other guy off. So, what exactly happened when Lance showed up? How did he scare off your attacker?"

Lance stepped forward to protest, but Shiro firmly pushed him back.

The addict looked between them before he crossed his arms, his shuffling growing more erratic until it looked more like an odd march of sorts. "I'm not going to say anything he don't want me to say, officer."

Shiro turned to Lance with a glacial smile. "Lance doesn't mind at all. Do you?"

Lance did, but he knew if he said so he'd definitely be fucking up any chance he had of appearing innocent in front of Shiro. He just hoped that, in the methhead's addled state at the time of the incident, he wouldn't remember anything incriminating.

"You can tell him everything. Just tell him what you saw." Lance made sure to say that as gently as he could.

The other man nodded before turning to Shiro. "Like I was saying, I was probably gonna be a dead man if this guy hadn't showed up. I wasn't paying too much attention, I was too busy trying not to bleed out. But…"

"But?" Shiro prompted.

"But… I... and this could just be like… one of them hallucinations or whatever, but I could've swore I saw him-"

"Him who? Your attacker?"

"Lance." The man clarified before continuing, "he got slashed across the stomach. I didn't see any blood though, so maybe that was my imagination. I don't know what Lance said… but…" The man shivered. "The way he said it still gives me the occasional nightmare."

Shiro's interest piqued at that. "What do you mean?"

The blood drained from his face. "I mean… it didn't even sound human."

Lance could have smacked himself in the forehead. Coming here was a mistake.

Shiro looked thoughtful. "How do you mean?"

"It was like… a growl but not."

Shiro gave a short sigh of irritation. "Is there any better way you could describe it? Maybe demonstrate?"

The addict shook his head. "No. I don't think anyone could. I don't know. I think the only way I could describe it, is that… when he spoke the way he did that night. It felt like everything in me was screaming to run away."

Lance walked behind Shiro in tense silence as they left the apartment. Something was up. Why hadn't Shiro been even slightly skeptical about the supernatural sound the methhead had heard? Did he even believe him? If not, then why had he been so insistent and asking questions?

He absently placed a hand on his stomach as he remembered having to lift his shirt for the two men's inspection. The addict had looked relieved by the lack of scars but Shiro's expression had yet to shift from the severe yet contemplative one he wore currently.

"Where are we going now?" Lance asked carefully.

"Not too far. I just wanted to get your take on the scene we just heard."

"What?"

"You know. Where you came in from. Where everyone was standing. Maybe we can see if you can remember any details about the attacker."

Lance knew damn well the attacker wasn't who Shiro was looking for, but he didn't say anything. With any luck, he would remember who the other guy was so Shiro could chase after him for a bit.

Like Shiro had promised, the pair arrived at the scene in only a few minutes.

Lance did his part of looking around at the vaguely familiar scene. After all, most dangerous and dark alleys didn't differ too much from one another.

"See anything familiar?" he heard Shiro ask behind him.

Lance's shoulders slumped when he couldn't remember absolutely anything. He turned around to inform Shiro of the sad truth and was prepared for the older man's dislike of him to increase. What he wasn't prepared for, was Shiro's face two inches from his own when he turned.

"Can I help you?"

Rather than backing down, Shiro stepped even closer. "So, what are you? Vampire? Shifter?"


	6. May We Meet Again

**Previously:**  
 **Rather than backing down, Shiro stepped even closer. "So, what are you? Vampire? Shifter?"**

* * *

 **Chapter 6: May We Meet Again.**

Lance felt his heart drop. "I'm… sorry? What?"

"Don't play dumb." Shiro bent over watching Lance's eyes, looking for the telltale animalistic sheen some supernatural creatures possessed. "I know you're not human. So 'fess up."

"What do you…" Lance cleared his throat and subtly reached into his pocket to speed dial Hunk's number. He felt Shiro grab his arm and reluctantly allowed the other man to pull it forward to reveal his phone.

"No, no, no. None of that." The detective released his arm to snatch the phone from Lance's hand and tuck it into his coat pocket. "Can't have you calling for reinforcements."

Shiro stepped back a bit and gestured for Lance to say something. "Now, you can either tell me what you are, or I can find out."

"And how would you go about doing that?"

Shiro gave a nonchalant shrug before reaching into his pocket.

He opened his mouth to speak, but before he could say anything Lance suddenly found himself doused with cold water.

"Hey!"

"So, holy water doesn't do anything." Shiro remarked while Lance wiped away the droplets cascading down his face.

"No, it doesn't." He spat. "Gah, it got in my mouth!"

"Does it burn?"

"No!" Lance spat a few more times, aiming for Shiro's shoes and missing every time. He straightened his back with a groan and saw Shiro back away a few more steps. "Look… I don't know how much I can tell you without upsetting my friends."

Shiro began to protest but stopped when Lance continued.

"So, I'm going to organize a meeting between all of us. There's no point in hiding that I'm not human. You obviously have experience in this world so I'm sure you realize why I don't want to upset anyone." Lance shrugged with a helpless smile. "That's the best I can do for you."

Shiro appeared to take a moment weighing the pros and cons of Lance's offer before agreeing.

Great. Now Allura can kill this guy and Keith gets to live! Lance thought with no small amount of relief. It wasn't that he didn't like Shiro… he just didn't care about him like he did Keith. And with the detective dead, things would be much easier.

Lance sat beside Hunk in Altea Pizza's largest booth. Allura and Coran sat across from them while Pidge slept in the middle of the restaurant's floor in her cat skin. He wondered if she ever regretted becoming Allura's familiar. Sure, the bond had been there she'd said, but signing away your humanity to a witch wouldn't have been Lance's first big life decision… then again…

The bell on the door jingled to announce Shiro's arrival. Lance noticed Pidge did little more than flick a tufted ear in the sound's direction in her slumber.

Allura, who'd been staring at her clasped hands pensively looked up with a disarming smile.

"Detective Shiro, I'm glad you agreed to come. My name is Allura and with me are-"

"Spare me the pleasantries, please. You know why I'm here. We don't need to know any more than that."

Allura froze. Unused to such cold stoicism. When she looked back at the table, Lance shrugged. As if to say, I told you he was a bastard.

"Right. Please, sit down. I'll pour us some tea and we can discuss what you wish to know."

Shiro arched a brow. "Tea? In a pizzeria?"

"Aids with digestion." She offered.

The detective analyzed the witch for any ill intentions before agreeing. It had been a long time since he'd been able to enjoy a cup of tea. Not when the coffeemaker in his office produced liquid energy for those long nights.

Allura was back after a minute with five steaming teacups. "What would you like to talk about first?" she asked, setting everyone's cups in front of them.

"Do you know a man named Matt?"

Allura's eyes widened slightly before she tilted her head in confusion. "Matt? Is that short for something?"

Shiro chuckled. "Matthew. But he never liked his full name. If you knew him, you knew him as Matt."

He reached for his cup only for a flash of tawny fur to knock the cup out of his hand. Hot tea spilled into his lap and he stood with a yelp.

Pidge hissed at Allura, her paws shuffling on the table trying to minimize where the tea was burning her.

"Pidge? What the hell?" Lance shouted.

The angry shifter turned to Lance next and swatted at him. She didn't get to make contact before she was scooped up from behind by Allura. If anyone thought that a cat couldn't look intimidating as it was dangling from its armpits, they'd never seen Pidge in that position. Perhaps it was her larger than average size, or perhaps the human-intelligence glaring into everyone's souls? Whatever it was, the rest of the room took a few steps away from the incensed feline.

Allura's voice was tinged with worry. This wasn't like her familiar. "Pidge, what's the matter with you?"

The cat struggled but didn't try to hurt the witch. Not that she even could.

"Pidge?" Everyone turned to the detective at the sound of his voice to find him looking lost in thought.

Pidge, for her part, yowled in Allura's direction, making Allura wince at the volume.

"We'll discuss this later." Lance heard the witch whisper harshly, the shifter flinched before going still. Her eyes were still narrowed, but her body appeared boneless as all the tension leaked out of her.

"Pidge?" Allura tried to set her familiar down and groaned when the feline sunk to the floor like a marionette with its strings cut. "Come now, Pidge. Stop being difficult."

Lance peeked at Shiro to find the detective watching the scene distantly. His eyes still glazed over in a faraway look while his mind tried to recall some small piece of information.

When Lance turned back to the witch and her familiar, he found Pidge looking… well… dead was really the only word that came to mind at the sight. Her paws splayed where she'd been set on the ground and her eyes glaring ahead without blinking.

Allura was petting down the side of her body trying to get some reaction. Even going so far as to pinch the tip of her tufted ear. When the shifter didn't so much as flinch, Allura stood with an exasperated sigh. "Fine. We'll do things your way."

Lance's eyes widened, but before he could protest the witch waved her hand and suddenly Pidge was in her human skin.

Shiro gasped before stepping forward and scooping the young woman up in a hug. "Katie!" He pulled back and fussed with her short hair. "You cut your hair?"

Pidge shrugged before returning Shiro's hug. "I missed you."

"Matt told me you ran away?" he glared up at the rest of the room's occupants. "Don't tell me you were kidnapped?"

It was Pidge's turn to pull away. "No, it's nothing like that. I chose to be with them. I…" she looked down at her lap, her cheeks pink, "I imprinted on her."

"Oh, Katie." He tugged the shifter into a tight embrace, glaring up at the witch in accusation. Like it was somehow Allura's doing that her and Pidge's spirits were bound together.

Lance shuffled closer to Hunk's side awkwardly. When he tried to situate himself behind the larger man, he found his arms in a firm grip before he was pushed back in front of Hunk to be in full view of everyone.

The detective and shifter were allowed a few moments while the other room's occupants waited anxiously for their meeting to continue.

When they finally separated, Pidge looked up at Shiro with a shaky smile. "So, I heard you guys talking about Matt. What's happened to him?"

When Shiro's breath caught in his throat, everyone stilled, preparing for bad news.

"Katie… he's… he's dead." Allura gasped at the news, knowing how important her familiar's brother had been to her.

The blood drained from Pidge's face and she sprang away from Shiro like she'd been burned. "What?" She slowly shook her head in disbelief. "That's not… No. He was… how?"

Shiro's face contracted in pain watching Pidge's confusion. His voice barely had any strength when he continued, "He was killed by the same thing that's been killing people. It's been feasting on them. Leaving only bones that have been picked clean, hands and feet untouched."

Lance felt his stomach rebel against him, his mind racing through the faces of everyone he'd ever eaten trying to match them up with what Pidge's brother might look like. Judging by the way Hunk's grip tightened on his arms exponentially, Lance was willing to bet his friend was putting two and two together as well.

There were a few that had been wearing glasses, but none of them looked even remotely like the shifter slowly dissolving into sobs. He supposed the glasses could have been knocked off of his face. He couldn't remember that many details about any of his meals. Victims, Lance's mind corrected. But he could remember almost vividly his latest one. Though the hair had been matted with blood and dirt, the skin pale from blood loss, the resemblance was almost uncanny.

The man he'd eaten in the alley…

It'd been…

"Matt." Pidge wailed. Her knees giving out moments before she fell to the linoleum floor of the restaurant. Her fists clenched, she pounded on the ground like she could somehow shatter reality and awaken from this nightmare.

Once her mind was able to break away from the grief of losing her brother, she began running through the evidence and piecing together what had happened. Her voice was thick in her throat, but she had to know. If it was as she suspected, she could guilt Allura into helping her get her brother back.

He couldn't be a zombie, like Lance. But she could still see him. Still talk with him. And that was far better than never seeing him again.

"When was it?" Pidge asked.

Shiro answered, knowing that "it" meant Matt's death without Pidge specifying. "The examiner had to use what they could from the only intact body parts, but it was about three days ago now."

"The new moon." Pidge murmured to herself. Shifters, and many other supernatural creatures that derived their power from the moon were severely weakened during those nights.

"Lance…" Hunk whispered behind him. Realizing, along with his zombie friend, that there was no doubt about who Lance had eaten in the alley on the night of the new moon.

"I know." Lance muttered before stepping forward. "Pidge… I think I…"

Those light brown eyes stared up at him hollowly. She already knew. "You didn't kill him though, did you?"

"But I could have saved him." Lance looked down, devastated. He'd grown cold towards people, needing any meal that presented itself to him. After all, if he didn't eat, he most assuredly would be the one killing the victims he fed on. Without the ability to feel even a shred of remorse for his actions.

But knowing he'd hurt one of his friends, one of the handful of people he'd allowed himself to care about. It was eating Lance up inside. "I may as well have killed him."

He expected Pidge to be glaring at him hatefully like Shiro was. But when he dared to meet her gaze, he found miserable forgiveness.

"Pidge… I'm so… I'm sorry." His voice broke at the end and he fought the tears stinging his eyes. He had no right to cry. He didn't deserve to feel the relief coursing through his body at his friend's forgiveness, but he did. And it made him feel all the more rotten inside.

Pidge didn't offer him reassurance. Why should she? Instead, she turned to her witch with a desperate plea in her eyes.

Allura's heart steeled, ready to deny her familiar what she was going to ask her to do.

"Allura…" And when those almost golden eyes glossed with tears, the witch knew she couldn't refuse her.

With a weary sigh, Allura nodded. Feeling the tiniest bit of relief when Pidge's shoulders relaxed.

She turned to head for the backroom where she kept her supplies.

"Where are you going?" Shiro asked from behind her.

She answered without halting her departure. "We're going to summon Matt's ghost."

Everyone sat in the largest table they could find in the pizzeria. Allura was drawing some eerie-looking symbols on a piece of strange paper…that turned out to be dried goat skin. The mixture she'd used to draw with was some sort of paste made from a drop of everyone's blood and pink carnation petals. In the center of the table, she'd placed a white tulip in a small cup of water with a look at Lance.

The detective had figured blood would be necessary but was surprised that other than blood and the goat skin, no other nefarious materials were needed to summon someone from beyond the grave. Especially when the other ingredients were common flowers. "What are the flowers for?"

"Pink carnations represent remembrance. They're a key part in any spell dealing with ghosts." Allura explained, dipping her brush back into the mixture.

"And the tulip?"

"Forgiveness." Lance answered quietly in Allura's place while she finished the last symbol.

No one spoke again until Allura had them all hold hands to form a circle. "Whatever you do. Don't break the circle. The second we do, for better or for worse, the spirit is no longer contained between us and is free to roam about the world of the living."

Shiro tilted his head. "Why is that a problem? Matt wouldn't do anything bad."

"It might not be Matt that answers our call." Allura informed him gravely.

The detective felt his stomach drop and for the first time he wondered if they should go through with this.

Allura looked around the group, her eyes landing on Pidge last. "Ready?"


	7. The Best Laid Plans

**Chapter 7: The Best Laid Plans**

When everyone gave a nod, Allura took a steadying breath before beginning.

"Spirits from beyond the grave, there is one with whom I wish to speak. Matthew Holt." She paused as if listening to something. Lance could hear whispering on the edge of his hearing.

Matthew Holt.

Matthew Holt.

The witch is calling for you.

Hurry, hurry. Into the realm of the living!

The voices stopped for a moment before returning all at once, screeching in alarm.

Run.

Run!

It comes!

A demon!

Allura gasped, but she found her body locked in place. At her alarm, Lance and Coran tried to release their hold only to find they too were frozen.

They watched as the life drained from the once vibrant white tulip. Its petals shriveling and crumbling to ash in the span of a few seconds.

The witch whimpered, tears gathering from her impossibly wide eyes.

The table rattled beneath their hands ominously and the air around them swirled tumultuously, howling and groaning against their ears. But underneath the cacophonies, a roar bubbled up that set their teeth chattering helplessly.

A shadowed panther appeared in the corner of their vision. At the sight, the spell that was over them seemed to break. Their bodies now able to move, their brains were finally able to relay the frantic message to pull away from each other.

The second they did, the temperature of the room dropped low enough that their breath puffed out in an icy mist; so cold it began to burn the tips of their fingers and seeped through their clothes, into their bones.

 **Ha**

 **Ha**

 **Ha**

The room stilled moments before Lance was lifted and thrown across the room, into the booths, where he landed with a resounding crack.

"Lance!" Hunk ran after his friend, carefully moving his body so it would heal correctly.

 **You will pay**

 **for what you did,**

 **you bastard.**

Pidge gasped in recognition. "Matt?"

The room stilled. The demon turning to the shifter. Its golden eyes piercing into its sister's soul.

 **P-Pidge?**

The room warmed to an almost tolerable temperature and the wind ceased its howling.

The demon cat shook its head, making the shadows around the form ripple and fade revealing it was Matt standing there. His eyes were still wild and his fingers ended in deadly claws, but it was him.

The demon's eyes were then drawn to the detective when Shiro stepped closer, his hand twitching from where he wanted to reach out and touch Matt.

 **"Shiro?"**

Lance groaned from where he'd fallen, his bones resetting themselves painfully.

The second Matt heard the zombie, a growl rattled in his chest, the shadows covering him in a shroud.

Allura leaned forward to whisper to her familiar. "Pidge, he's become a demon."

"I can see that." Pidge snapped.

"We need to banish him before he does any more damage."

The shifter shook her head. "But I just… I just got him back." Her eyes welled with tears as she watched Matt fight against the shadows slowly consuming him. "It's not fair!"

Allura pulled Pidge close to her, petting her hair comfortingly. She could distantly feel a profound sadness in the part of her soul she shared with her familiar.

The witch sighed before licking her lips nervously. "There is one way we might be able to calm him enough to be reasoned with."

Shiro stepped forward while Pidge lifted her head so fast, she nearly knocked into Allura's chin.

"What is it?"

"If we can get him to agree to a soul contract, he should be able to act like his normal self again." Allura offered.

Pidge tilted her head. "Can't you just do it?"

Allura smiled sadly, knowing Pidge was going off the fact that witches would often bind themselves to demons for protection and increased power. "I can't- our souls are bound to each other."

The detective lifted his head to watch Matt slowly succumb to his vengeful urges. "I will." He turned back to the witch. "Just tell me what I need to do."

The detective wasted no time. Matt was already in his panther form. Although, his body was shaking from where he was trying to refocus on his sister and Shiro. Luckily, Lance had yet to make another sound and accidentally rile the demon further.

He stood in front of Matt, blocking his view of Lance, and sliced his right forearm. The second his blood dripped onto the floor, the demon stilled.

Breathing in sharply, the shadows fell from Matt much faster.

 **"Shiro, what're you…"**

Rather than answering, Shiro began the incantation Allura had told him, using his blood to make the symbol on his palm that Allura had pointed to on the table.

"Matthew Holt, I beseech thee to make a contract. That we might stand as one force against our enemies, both the living and the dead."

 **"I don't want your soul, Shiro. I won't damn you for eternity."**

"Can't there be something? Anything else?"

"There is one way." Allura mentioned quietly. "But it isn't preferable."

 **"Shut up, witch."**

Shiro ignored Matt's warning. "What is it?"

 **"Don't."**

Allura rolled her eyes. "Fine, I won't tell him. But you should. It's only fair that Shiro gets to make the choice."

The detective tilted his head in the way Matt could never refuse him. "Matt?"

The demon gave a defeated sigh, sounding like a reptilian hiss. **"A blood sacrifice."**

Shiro looked down at his arm in confusion. "How much do you need?"

The demon's laughter sent chills down everyone's spine. **"More blood than you could survive without."**

Shiro swallowed nervously. "Then what is it?"

 **"I would need you to sacrifice a limb. An arm… a leg… A vital organ would do too, but again, that would just kill you."**

"And you can't just take my soul?" Shiro joked weakly.

Matt stared at him expressionless. He turned to Allura. **"I think I can hold myself back long enough until you can banish me. Just make sure never to call for me again… I don't know if I'll be able to fight against this rage again."**

"No!" Shiro and Pidge chorused.

Matt's claws sunk into his messy hair in frustration. **"I don't know what else you want me to do? This is for the best. For everyone…"**

"What about you?"

Matt tilted his head at Shiro's question.

"How is it the best for you? How is it fair that you had to be murdered in some alley… not even laid to rest properly and instead made a meal of?"

Lance shrank into Hunk's arms guiltily from across the room.

"How is disappearing from our lives, never getting to see us again, fair to you?" Shiro continued righteously.

 **"I…"**

"I don't even care anymore. Take the deal. If you don't want my soul, you can have my fucking arm. I don't care. Just please…" His voice broke, "I can't lose you again. Not when there's a chance to save you… in the only way I can." He looked up at Matt desperately, "please… let me help you."

Matt and the detective stared at each other. The demon refusing to hurt Shiro, and Shiro refusing to let Matt hurt himself.

Allura cleared her throat. "I suppose now would be a good time to add what I was going to include if you'd have let me tell Shiro."

The room turned to focus on the witch.

"I can engineer a fully functioning limb using magic. It won't be like your organic one, of course, but you can still use it. Your sense of touch will be dulled, and you'll always feel like your hand is asleep for the first few months, or so I'm told, but you'll at least still have an arm to use?"

"See? I wouldn't even be losing my arm forever. Now," He slid his hand into Matt's, leaving the demon no room to argue, "Let's make the deal."

* * *

 **Notes:**

 **Okay, hopefully I can actually get where I want this to be before next "season" this year XD**

 **But I've learned my lesson. Write beforehand. Then post orz**


End file.
